Stay With Me
by HuddYM
Summary: "He was trying to avoid this subject for so long, always knowing that no matter how hard he will try, at some point he will have to deal with that part of his past, the part that has been hunting him for years."


**A/N: I wrote this a while ago, before Bombshells. Just so that you will understand, this is how I see House & Cuddy's future, living together and eveything is pink, bright & shining with rainbows & unicorns. Well, not everything... you'll see.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own this, bla bla bla...**

Stay With Me

Each and every key pressed exactly in the right second, creating a harmony, a melody.

Despite the age of the piano the keys were soft to his touch, or so it seemed to him.

The tunes got higher and lower in a calm rhythm, and from time to time it got less calm and faster, and then it calmed again.

In those fast and calm and powerful moments his lips turned into a thin smile on his concentrated face and his eyes, which were fixed on the keys, sparkled for a moment.

He was swept away by the melody, his whole body moving to its rhythm.

When the last notes slowly faded away he lifted his eyes and looked at her.

"You wrote that all by yourself?" she asked as if she couldn't believe it.

A smug smile appeared on his face.

"Yes."

"It's beautiful."

He thanked her with a nod and started playing again, this time a different work.

"I wrote this one..." he tried to remember, small wrinkles creating on is forehead, and sank again into the melody. After a few moments he was awaken into life and said: "Just a little while before the creature got here," he pointed his head at the direction of the corridor.

"The creature has a name," she remarked, as always.

"Does it really matter?" he complained, "You know I know her name, and I call her in her name when I talk to her."

"What gave you the inspiration for this work?" she changed the subject.

"All kind of things."

"Maybe the fact that you were ignoring me around that time is one of those things?"

"Not everything is about you, you know."

She hummed.

"Maybe," he changed his answer.

She laughed a free, careless laugh.

He liked it, when she laughed like that. In those few moments when it happened he felt as if she exposes herself completely to him, more then in her usual self-controlled smiles and laughs.

His smile widened and he looked back at the piano's keys.

"What?" she asked at the sight of his smile.

He didn't answer.

One of the best things between the two of them was not knowing each others thoughts, He enjoyed guessing her thoughts and the motives behind her actions. And he knew that she enjoyed guessing what was going on in his head.

Well, except for those times when she knew that the things that were going in inside his head are about destroying all kind of things, or hurting someone, whether she cares for that someone or not. In those times she did every thing she could to find out what he was planing.

"Do you name your works?"

"Sometimes."

"And does this one has a name?"  
>"Are you going to tell me?"<p>

"Nope."

She hugged her knees close to her chest, leaned her chin on them and looked at him.

Her eyebrows frowned on concentration ans a small V was created between them.

He knew what she was thinking about.

"Don't try to guess."

"Why not?"

"'Cause you will never make it."

She straightened up her back, crossed her legs and said: "We agreed no more secrets."

"We said no more lies. I'm allowed to have as much secrets from the past as I like."

"Do you have a lot of secrets from the past?" she investigated him mot only with her words, but with her gave, too.

"Considering the fact that you don't know much about my childhood, then yes."

"Then isn't it about time you tell me?"

"No."

"I will tell you things from my childhood."

"And I would love to listen."

"But you won't tell me something, too?

"No."

"Why?"

He shrugged.

"Don't I deserve to know about about you, too? There's a whole hole in your life that I don't know a thing about!" she said.

Her tone confused him. It wasn't an angry tone... it had some kind of sadness and despair in it. Like she was hopeless about him.

"There is nothing you should know about that time."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me!"

The melody stopped at once.

"Do you think it will change something between the two of us?" he asked in quite voice.

"Can it?"

"Not directly, but... maybe."

That confused her.

"How?" a single word, after a long silence.

He lowered his look to the piano's keys, but didn't press them again. His hand started messaging his aching leg, without him even noticing it.

"It's just that..." he was looking for the right words, "It will horrify you."

"Why?" she asked in a worried tone.

"You don't know me like this, like I used to be."

He was trying to avoid this subject for so long, always knowing that no matter how hard he will try, at some point he will have to deal with that part of his past, the part that has been hunting him for years.

"People change."

He chuckled.

"People change... or that you force them to."

"What do you mean?"

Suddenly he looked up at his, his eyes gazing hers with a hunted look.

"You think I wanted to be like this? That I decided to be cynical, miserable? Experiences throughout the years made me like this."

"Are you talking about your childhood?"

He nodded.

"Why do you think I hated my father so much?"

"I guess I always thought that you two just didn't get along."

He laughed, throwing his head backwards. But it was a cold, cynical laugh.

"Didn't get along with him..." he mumbled, shaking his head, "No one can get along with someone who abuses them."

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened, but no sound came out it. She didn't know how to respond. She looked down at her palms and moved them awkwardly. Finally, she asked quietly: "What did he do?"

He sighed.

"Nothing terrible, or possible to see. He left me to sleep outside sometimes, or made me get into ice bathes. He did that to educate me, so that I won't get him angry. But that only made me want to try and get him angrier."

"And your mom?"

"She knew. Didn't say a word."

"At last, she looked up at him.

"House, I'm..."

He knew that she was looking for the right thing to say, but couldn't find it. She wanted to protect him or comfort him, but didn't know how.

"It's no your fault."

"Is there's something I can do... help you somehow?"

He got up from the piano's chair and limped towards the couch she was sitting on.

"Just... stay with me."


End file.
